


Fractures

by pollybywater



Category: One Life to Live, The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-08
Updated: 2007-08-08
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pollybywater/pseuds/pollybywater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim adds cracks to the foundation and finds 'a house divided against itself cannot stand'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractures

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: J/B UST, B/OMC. Antonio the OMC I borrowed from 'One Life to Live'; poor guy had to get out of Llanview. This was originally written for Maddie's birthday a few years ago. Periodically, I get the urge to do more with it, but it pretty much stands alone as it is (if you like angst, unresolved shit, non-OTPs, and not-happy endings).

Jim thought it was funny the first time he was invited to join the PD's GLBTG alliance. It happened a few months after Blair moved into the loft.

He'd smiled and turned the offer down gracefully.

The second time he was asked, Blair had been living with him for over a year and of course _he'd_ heard all the rumors and gossip. He really wasn't surprised to be invited again. He would have invited him, too.

Still thinking it was funny, he grinned at the alliance rep.

"I'd love to, but there's a little problem. I don't qualify for membership. Blair and I are just friends."

The rep, a new Vice detective named Antonio Vega, tipped his head to one side and gave Jim a doubtful look from intense, deep-set brown eyes.

Jim didn't know the guy except by rumor, having been told Vega had recently transferred into the department from some city back East. Blair had met him - naturally, since Blair met everybody, and Blair, who'd never bothered to hide his bisexuality, _was_ a member - and Blair had spoken of Vega with open approval.

"Yeah, I think Vega is a righteous cop, man."

The tone of his voice had made Jim's chest feel twisty inside, even then.

He'd been perfectly willing to take Blair's word for it, perfectly able to admit to himself he admired Vega's courage in living out ... all the while busily refusing to admit he was secretly envious.

He had reasons that had nothing to do with sexuality - almost nothing, anyway - and everything to do with the longing to live openly as who he was.

Looking at Antonio Vega, Jim could appreciate why Blair had been impressed. Vega had honest eyes, eyes fathomless with the tired resignation that comes from having your soul badly trampled. Traces of loss and pain - old and very familiar to Jim - hovered around Vega in a visible cloud, tasting like salt on the back of Jim's tongue.

Those dark eyes stared at Jim with unguarded disbelief.

Vega recovered himself quickly and shut himself down, controlling his reactions with a skill Jim also found enviable. He offered Jim a wry shrug.

"I think maybe someday I'll remind you you said that," the handsome Puerto Rican detective predicted smoothly, his sharp, intelligent gaze becoming speculative ... yet still edged with that inexplicable sadness.

"Poor Blair," Vega breathed to himself, so quietly even Jim barely heard him. "And poor you.

"Have a nice day, Detective," he'd added casually in a normal tone, walking away before Jim could recover his power of speech.

***

Jim had watched Blair for a while after that, decided Blair wasn't treating him any differently than ever, and privately concluded Antonio Vega was just blowing smoke up his ass.

Blair was his friend. That was all he wanted from Blair anyway.

Or so Jim told himself, whistling in the graveyard.

Everything changed when Blair and Antonio Vega started dating.

It stopped being funny.

***

Blair was singing in the shower.

Blistered with such abrupt rage that if he hadn't been sitting he would have fallen to his knees, Jim listened and absolutely _hated_ that Blair sounded so happy to be going out with another man.

He was _jealous_.

It hit with the impact of glaciers falling into the ocean, every other rational thought shoved aside by the weight displacement.

Just as quickly filled with icy terror, Jim gasped as the ramifications swept over him, the truth welling up from his subconscious mind. Jealous. Not in the 'my friend never has time for me any more' kind of way, but more like 'you're mine, goddamnit!'

The way that made Jim want to get in there, yank Blair's naked wet body out of the shower, and fuck him right there on the tile floor.

"No. Shit, no," he said to himself as he tried to beat back what he was feeling, finding the mental pictures too appallingly attractive and hating himself for it. He planted his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands, curling over his swelling erection.

He could not be feeling this. He could not. He didn't want Blair like that. Blair was just his friend. And he didn't do men. Period. End of story.

"No, no, no."

Just exactly how long had he been hiding this from himself? Lying to himself?

"Jim? You okay?"

He hadn't even heard Blair get out of the shower. Half afraid to look for fear Blair would be standing there in a towel - and truthfully, he couldn't trust himself should that be the case - Jim lifted his head, looked at his friend and guide, and met worried blue eyes.

Blair put a hand on his shoulder and Jim relaxed automatically. In the next second - when it felt like every nerve in his skin leaped in greeting - he shrugged away from Blair's touch. Scenting Blair's sudden hurt, Jim looked away, unable to stand seeing it on Blair's face.

Sense memory filled in the details he needed. Blair was dressed in his good black jeans and a chambray shirt that made his eyes glow. His hair was loose, he was wearing his earrings, his skin was pink, and he was so fucking beautiful Jim wanted to- wanted to-

His mouth and throat went suddenly dry as Blair's shower-fresh, humid scent curled all around him. Some previously subterranean part of his psyche informed him that Blair needed to smell like _him_.

 _Oh, God, no._

Toes literally clenching in his shoes, Jim held on by the nails to his self-control.

"Jim? Did something happen? Did you get some bad news? Is someone-"

Blair sounded frantic now, smelling like fear. Letting it knock him out of near fugue state he'd fallen into, Jim shook his head like he'd been punched.

Which was just about how he felt.

"No, no, nothing like that, Sandburg. I just realized I left something out of my report on the Rascoe murders. I'm going to have to go to the station and rewrite it. Simon wants it first thing."

 _Yes, Blair, something happened. You need to get out now._

"Are you sure? You look... Hey, I could go by the station and-"

"No way, buddy." Jim waved him off, trying to keep his voice normal. "I messed it up, I'll fix it. You go have a good time.

"Get lost, Sandburg. I'm fine," he insisted after a moment when Blair didn't move, ignoring the fresh whiff of hurt he then scented from Blair at his shortening tone.

 _My guide. Mine. **Mine.**_

"Yeah, okay. Whatever, man," Blair said in a tone that sounded like 'tired of your shit', very obviously aware Jim wasn't fine and wasn't telling anything like the truth. "Don't wait up," he tacked on a parting shot, not pausing as he headed for the door.

Knowing if he opened his mouth, only one possible word would fall out, Jim kept his jaw clenched tight until long after Blair had left.

No, it wasn't funny at all.

Still trying to deny he was having some kind of meltdown, Jim eventually stood and followed Blair.

Just one more impulse to refuse to examine.

***

"Hey, you okay?"

Blair looked up into Vega's eyes and gave him a rueful smile, face well lit by the theater's bright marquee lights. Hearing should have been problematic, given the distance and the departing crowd, but Jim's ears had zeroed in on Blair like he was standing right there, eavesdropping on every second as Blair and Vega had walked out of the theater. The multitudes of other movie-goers weren't even a blip on Jim's radar.

"What makes you think otherwise?" Blair asked with what sounded to Jim like genuine curiosity as he and Vega began walking towards the parking lot.

"I can tell you're upset. You've been off all evening. Something happen?"

Jim watched Blair smile - a _real_ smile - that he turned on Antonio Vega like a spotlight, halting a dazed Vega in his tracks. Blair moved in front of him and grabbed his upper arms, face turning up like a flower.

"You know what? I think something's finally about to," Blair said and let himself fall in love.

Jim could smell it.

The scent was familiar.

***

Antonio lowered his mouth to Blair's slowly, like he thought Blair was going to suddenly change his mind. Not that Blair blamed Antonio ... he'd warned his new friend when they started seeing each other that he was in love with someone - Antonio had guessed it was Jim - and wasn't looking for anything serious. Antonio had gracefully accepted his terms and they'd both indulged in a little mutual stress relief.

But Blair found out he really liked Antonio Vega. He liked him a lot. Antonio was a genuinely nice guy, warm and funny beneath the laid back machismo that barely masked a deeply hurt vulnerability. Blair rose to that like a trout to a fly, discovering along the way that he also liked the way Antonio touched him, passionate but respectful. The way Antonio spoke to him and listened closely when he talked.

The way Antonio held him. Antonio treated him like he was special.

He hadn't realized how much he'd been missing that.

And he _really_ liked the way Antonio looked naked, long scarred body hard and lean and welcoming Blair's hands.

After dealing with Jim's moody irritability, snappishness, and recent touch-me-not behavior, being with a person who _wanted_ him around...

Blair didn't have words, but he knew one thing.

It was irresistible.

And he had, after all, no reason to resist. No reason.

Antonio's mouth covered his tenderly, slanting over his lips, warm tongue slipping in an invitation. The kiss deepened, Blair giving himself over to it, as he distantly wondered if Antonio could taste a difference now that he'd given up on ever having Jim.

***

"Hermoso." _Beautiful._ Antonio whispered in Blair's ear, hands beneath Blair's upper back curling over his shoulders, so Antonio could cradle him near while they fucked like lovers, face to face.

It had never felt like this between them. It hadn't been _bad_ \- sex between two healthy, motivated young men could never be bad - but Antonio knew things had taken a radical turn.

Turning his head, Blair caught Antonio's mouth in an off-center kiss, licking greedily at his lips. Blair's hands stroked his back and ass like Blair couldn't get close enough, either ... pelvis arching up into each one of his slow, deliberate thrusts; Blair's legs wrapping 'round his thighs, pulling him in, rigid cock rubbing slippery demands against his belly.

He lifted his head and looked at Blair's face, tight with arousal, lips swollen and red, blue eyes dark as storms and pleasure-dazed.

Drunk on what _he_ was doing. Making love to _him_ without holding anything back.

"Beautiful."

"No soy, Antonio." _I'm not_.

"You are." Freeing one hand, Antonio smoothed sweaty tendrils of hair off Blair's temple, holding his gaze. "Gracias, Blair. I'd forgotten what this felt like, to lie in the arms of someone who cares."

His hips slowed even further, body obeying his heart's unconscious wish to feel like this just a little longer.

Blair's hands slid up Antonio's back and fisted in his hair, holding his head for attention's sake.

"Someone who loves," Blair promised, voice raspy and low, pulling their mouths together.

They were still kissing when they finally reached climax, swallowing each other's hoarse cries as they shuddered and shook.

***

In retrospect, Jim decided running off to Clayton Falls wasn't one of his brighter ideas, but he'd been thoroughly disgusted with himself for eavesdropping on Blair and Antonio Vega, plus, he was rather desperate to prove his heterosexuality, too - struggling to convince himself he just needed to get laid, that getting hard while listening to Blair and Vega making love meant nothing.

In retrospect, Jim thought he deserved an Oscar.

***

Something about Blair's attitude towards him changed after the Treasury train debacle. Jim could never put his finger on exactly what it was, but it felt a bit like the indifference he used to get from his father after Stephen's mother left them, as if in having lost two wives, William Ellison had lost any ability to emotionally engage, even with his children.

Jim found himself reacting to Blair pretty much like he'd reacted as a child to his father, busily pretending to himself he didn't care, either; being by turns sullen, argumentative, irritable and impossible to talk to.

Unfortunately, Jim was so busy pushing Blair and pushing Blair away, he didn't draw the parallels until much, much later.

Of course he cared. He cared too much.

***

Then came the argument over the first chapter of Blair's diss, and before they'd had any chance to recover from that, there was Alex Barnes.

***

LAX was a nightmare for anyone, let alone a sentinel. Jim struggled to keep his hearing from spiking. He refused to allow himself the comfort of Blair's touch. He couldn't bear it, not when he knew how upset with him Blair really felt underneath. Jim could smell Blair's bottled-up hurt and anger; scent the fumes from the magma temper that was boiling deep inside his friend, barely crusted over with Blair's exhausted fatigue and a certain deliberate, self-imposed calm.

Blair wasn't fooling Jim. Feelings of betrayal rose off Blair's skin in a heat shimmer Jim could see. He couldn't not look, feeling responsible, but he limited himself to a quick glance, filling in the details with his other senses and his memory.

The muscles in Blair's neck and shoulders had grown tight and defensive as he'd gradually stopped offering Jim help. Blair was pale under his tan; the skin beneath his eyes was bruised, and his bottom lip looked bitten and sore. He hadn't spoken to Jim since their flight left Mexico City, and Jim was afraid to know what he'd been holding in.

Something in Jim's soul howled.

 _You finally did it. You finally found his breaking point. You gave him every reason not to love you any more._

 _If he ever did._

Jim wondered if he should congratulate himself or kick his own ass.

When Antonio Vega met them near the baggage claim and Blair walked into his lover's arms - seeking the comfort he should have been getting from Jim - Jim knew.

***

End  
7/8/07

***

And here's a little unfinished snippet to add on...

***

Antonio clutched Blair to him just so he wouldn't have to see the look in Blair's eyes. He knew it too well: dull incomprehension mixed with the animal agony of deep betrayal.

He recognized it from his mirror. That was the look that had been in his own eyes after Jessica cheated on him and left him for Nash Brennan.

He hadn't known a human could feel pain like that and survive. Having half his liver carved out to save his wife's faithless life had felt like nothing next to that.

It had taken him years to get even half-way over it. Years of suffocating with sheer disbelief. Years of asking himself "why?" and "what did I do to you?" "How could you do that to me?" and "how could I be such a fool?" Years to completely change his life, so he could avoid ever risking that kind of pain again. Years of learning how to live without trust.

Years of torment that Antonio hated the thought of Blair suffering.

"What the hell did he do?" he whispered in Blair's ear, arms holding Blair even tighter. "Blair? What did he do?"

"Not here ... 'Tonio, just get me away from- out of here. Please." Blair's words breathed out in hot gusty shudders, begging against the skin of Antonio's throat, the raw grief in his voice more than Antonio could bear to hear. "How are you even here?" Blair asked, clutching at him gratefully, so plainly relieved to see him Antonio felt his heart clench again.

Damn it. Damn it. He didn't want to care this much.

This was Blair Sandburg. How could he not?

"I have connections," he murmured, lifting his head to inspect Blair's three traveling companions. All three of them looked like shit, but the expression on Jim Ellison's face - shame, regret, and hopeless, hopeless loss - made the man look ten years older than his age. "I have a house in Coyoacán-" actually, a mansion, one of the properties his late father left him "-I'd like to show it to you. You wanna come with?" he whispered to Blair, who whispered back a grateful "yes".

"Detective Vega," Simon Banks acknowledged, his own voice rough and tired. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"Captain Banks. I thought Blair could use a friend."

"He has two here," Connor muttered, and Antonio watched Jim Ellison close his eyes and look positively ill.

"Yes, well." Banks cleared his throat. "Our flight to LAX leaves in-"

"I'm staying here," Blair announced in a now level tone, mind obviously made up. He turned in Antonio's arms and faced down his erstwhile traveling companions, chin held high. "I'm still on medical leave from being dead, it's a good time for a vacation."

Antonio tightened his arms around Blair involuntarily, wondering how much it cost Blair to sound so casual when he knew better. He'd been the one to hold Blair during Blair's first night in the hospital, his lover weeping out terror against his chest as darkness fell like death.

"Sandburg-" Simon began while Jim said nothing. Megan Connor stepped forward and squeezed Blair's forearms. Blair bit back a gasp and Antonio promptly moved him out of her reach, stepping between them. Hoping Connor wouldn't kick his ass, he smoothly shoved her aside and took careful hold of Blair's right hand, gently pushing up the cuff of Blair's sleeve to inspect Blair's wrist. His skin bore several bruises and was decorated in spots with barely scabbed-over abrasions that told of painful restraints.

"Ouch. You didn't go down easy, did you, tough guy?" He knew he'd played it just right when Blair actually grinned at him.

"Oh, Sandy, I'm sorry!"

"Yours can't be much better, Megan," Blair pointed out calmly, repossessing his hand and leaning into Antonio, instead. Connor lifted her wrists with a rueful shrug. They were as bruised and scraped as Blair's.

"True enough, mate."

Simon Banks was frowning at Blair's and Connor's wrists, his concern obvious. "Did someone look at these?" he questioned and Antonio shared his relief when Megan quickly assured him a doctor at the hotel had examined them both.

And still Jim Ellison said nothing. Antonio wanted to throttle him.

"It's just what it looks like, scrapes and bruises. Superficial," Blair said, attempting - and failing - to keep his tone the same way. His last word came out with bitterness that Antonio felt it marrow-deep ... saw it cut Jim Ellison to the bone when the man closed his eyes and covered them with one hand. Then Ellison wiped his face, wiping away whatever he'd been feeling, and regarded them dispassionately, expression stony.

Superficial? Hardly.


End file.
